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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27136819">Sunrise</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mixxxyx/pseuds/Mixxxyx'>Mixxxyx</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Of Family and Madness [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Minecraft, Alternate Universe - War, Angst, Dream Smp, Dream feels guilty, Dream is sad, Evil Wilbur Soot, Gen, I'm Sorry, L’Manburg, L’Manburg burns, Manburg burns, Mentioned Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Wilbur Soot, Sad Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Villain Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot blows shit up, but they’re background, dream team, he’s sad, manburg, minecraft is real, there’s actual people in the kingdoms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:42:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,424</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27136819</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mixxxyx/pseuds/Mixxxyx</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Baby flames are still visible from where they stand, but it pales in comparison to the way they had completely engulfed the city only hours prior. They remember watching it burn from this very same spot, knowing that there was nothing they could do. Nothing, other than to open their kingdom to those fleeing.<br/>-<br/>The one where Dream Team + Karl watch Manburg burn and feel guilty</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream &amp; GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream &amp; Karl Jacobs, Clay | Dream &amp; Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Karl Jacobs &amp; Sapnap</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Of Family and Madness [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1980004</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>74</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sunrise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I don’t know where I’m going with this! I’m just kinda winging it but you guys seem to like it so if I get the same kind of feedback, I’ll continue with whatever this au is. Woo here we go again! This is written slightly differently in the fact that I used names a lot more. Also yeah, more angst.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They are silent as the sun rises, staring at the fallen kingdom in the distance. Baby flames are still visible from where they stand, but it pales in comparison to the way they had completely engulfed the city only hours prior. They remember watching it burn from this very same spot, knowing that there was nothing they could do. Nothing, other than to open their kingdom to those fleeing. Setting up places to stay, measly tents, and scrounging as much food as their own people were willing to offer. <br/>The first few came in within an hour of Manburg City being declared fallen. Dirtied and minimally injured teenagers, who had run the whole way, carrying younger children. They passed on as much detail as they could, speaking of the flames and TNT. The teenagers had warned them of the injured and the vast number of them. Quick thanks and food were given in response, as they sent out whoever they could spare to collect those who would not make it on their own. Their people had come out of their homes, taken one look at the distant fire, and turned to helping the refugees. It had taken them a few hours to realise that’s what they were: refugees. As they stood on the city walls, on a too warm night, they had realised. It had left a weight and a bitter feeling in the air. Leading up to this moment, more and more had arrived, forced to flee to the city, the country that had so recently tried to destroy them. </p>
<p>They remember wanting to destroy the city so recently, that the settling weight of dread on their shoulders came as a shock. They didn’t ever consider this. The reason behind Manburg City’s demise had almost floored them, and left one with suffocating guilt. When one refugee been helped through the gates screaming bloody murder, a wild and terrified look on her face. She looked haunted. Betrayed. It had taken Dream himself to calm her. And then she said it. “Pre-siden-t So-ot! It w-as him! Him a-and Te-chnob-lade!” It was forced out past violent hics and sobs, but they all heard it. The forming crowd had physically reeled back, some in horror and some in shock. The desperate murmurs and frantic whispers had almost suffocated him. <br/>He faintly remembers being pulled into a nearby building, and the sound finally stopping when the door closed. It was only them in the room. No one else would hear it if he confessed his knowledge. Though, he was still working on breathing evenly, so his guilty words would have to wait. He turns to face the other three and their expressions bring him back to reality. Sapnap. His oldest friend, with them having grown up together, had paled significantly and his jaw was clenched so hard that the veins were popping slightly. His onyx eyes were burning holes through the chipped wooden flooring, and his arms were tightly crossed. He leaned against the wall behind him and harshly breathed out before turning to the man next to him. The man in question was already looking back at him, usually bright hazel eyes had taken a somber light and his body was so rigid he was almost shaking. He was the newest addition to their friend group, having moved here as a political liaison between his country and theirs. With bright clothes and a puppy-like personality, he had no right looking so defeated. The pure sight of Karl’s expression didn’t sit right with him, so he flicked his eyes over to the last of the three in the room. Possibly his closest friend (don’t tell Sapnap) and the oldest of all four of them, but the shortest. He stood in the corner of the room and stared blankly out of the window, at the ever moving stream of refugees. Completely unreadable expression and no clear sign of distress or anger. It unnerved him. George wasn’t an overly emotional person, but he had never taken that expression before. It was hard, cold, but not necessarily angry. His eyes snapped away from the window and met his. Dark brown met green, and he wanted to flinch away. The swirling range of emotion in his eyes made him want to cry. Anger, disbelief, guilt. George studies him for a moment longer before speaking. <br/>“You said Wilbur wanted to take back L’Manburg.” <br/>The accusation behind the statement is poorly veiled, with the three catching on to his words very quickly. He rolls his shoulders and breaks his gaze away from the colour-blind male to glance at the other two, who look vaguely uncomfortable at the atmosphere but eager to hear his response. Adjusting his mask, he considers his words for a few seconds before inhaling. <br/>“That’s what he told me... said he wanted to take out Schlatt and take back rule,” he trails off slightly, voice thick with emotion. The words hang in the air for a while. Minutes of silence as they all think about what to say. They all knew Wilbur as a good man, someone who wanted the best for L’Manburg, now Manburg. <br/>“But there’s more.”<br/>The words come from his childhood friend, and he lifts his head to survey him. The raven haired male is quick to continue. </p>
<p>“I know that look. You aren’t telling us something.”</p>
<p>God, he’d hoped that he was better at hiding things. He really should have seen this coming. All three of them are staring at him with varying levels of scrutiny, and he breaks. <br/>“I gave Wilbur the TNT.”</p>
<p>It’s rushed, quiet and he doesn’t meet any of their eyes. The guilt comes back full force at his admission, his throat tightening and the nausea sitting in his stomach. <br/>“You <em>what</em>?”</p>
<p>It’s the third member of the group who talks this time, his voice is laced with barely hidden fury. Now, he is not an easily scared man. He’s fought in wars and is considered one of the best, but when he hears the level of ‘I am going to end you’ in his normally naively positive friend’s voice, he scrambles for an explanation. <br/>“I gave it to him so he could expand the ravine he was building in. He said he wanted to flesh out the tunnels and asked if I knew a way to do it quickly, so I gave him the TNT.”</p>
<p>More silence. Then he added,</p>
<p>“I... I thought he looked <em>off</em>.” <br/>“Off?” George’s harsh tone cuts in. <br/>“Off...” Is all he can offer back, lamely. The room, once again, lapses into uncomfortable silence. He uses this moment to listen to the outside. He can hear children and infants crying, and the hushed comforts of parents. He can hear guards and civilians pointing refugees in different directions, where there is space for them. He can hear the injured calling out, the pained cries lingering in the air. His eyebrow twitch down, and he deliberately ignores the burning behind his eyes. He gave Wilbur the TNT. He’s the reason these people are here, seeking a safe place, seeking shelter. If he hadn’t ignored the look in Wilbur’s eyes. If he hadn’t convinced himself that it was fine. If he <em>hadn’t</em>—</p>
<p>They all look up at the same time, unspoken words flying between them. Karl opens the door. He’s the first to walk out, eager to distract himself or make up for his guilt by offering his help where he can. Sapnap follows, unsure as to what happens next, so he decides to stick by the brunet. They help move carts and barrels out of the way of new tents. He stands still in the room for a few more minutes, both him and the other male in their own heads. George glances at him again, a softer, more melancholy expression on his face this time. I know you didn’t mean this. It passes between them, and a minuscule weight lifts off his chest. They walk out together, giving nods to those they giving passing recognition to. They pass by the other two and gesture for them to follow. They move to the gates, looking back to the fallen city. The one who’s very existence they fought against. The one who’s people they are now housing. The one that was burned to the ground last night. Flames no longer flicker in the distance, having gone out with nothing else to burn. The sky is lighter now, and he turns his head to look at the sun. </p>
<p>“It’s a new day.”</p>
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